There are violent things in my heart. Perhaps they have been festering there ever since that change. And now I have run in here to find some different pain, some mystery of myself to keep secret, something which, for this short time, is absolutely not Jack.

A marriage is a very secret place.

Perhaps this 'dead' feeling was also brought on by an intensification of her old secret sorrow. Perhaps one day this sorrow might end. But she did not think it would end or see how it could end.

Everyone here seems to have some weird secret or other.

It's all someone else's secret.

The agony was of suddenly feeling herself so separate and so secret.

She thought, I shall never tell it to Jack, the strange love which I feel for this doomed man, as if he were a dog lying in the road with a broken back.

Desperate for help, living his life now as a hideous dream, he had told nobody.

The virtues have secret names: they are, so difficult of access, secret things. Everything that is worthy is secret.